Still Waiting On Moses! Goldilocks Murphy was a tough cookie, Bumbling, a long lost road less traveled! The time has come she finally confessed, Slowly, trundling her cart, down the road, Of, infinitely inscrutable geometric chaos! Topology, hinting at what remains missing, The remaining, unknown timeless geometry! Where bereft the time, geometry is pointless! More is less is more or less more of the same! Where all shapes are impossible bereft clocks! Now Mark Twain, knew his own personal limits; Remained beyond, any and all, possible fiction, More in all the far flung corners of any universe, More in all of the empty voids between universes, More, beneath the hardest rock and bitterest snow, More, beyond the most panoramic infinite horizons, Than contained in any, widely recognized road maps! More than any truck stops and road signs may convey, Some of the best maps all remain, part of the landscape, Some of the best maps, change along with the landscape, While some of the worst maps of all destroy the landscape! With or without any map, gravity tells me which way is down! Moseying on the FarSide of the long since forgotten and farfetched, Hawking, Her Cosmic Fortuitous Fruity Walking Vegetable Stand! When you don’t know where you’re going you are already there! TwilightZone, still a glimmer, in your distant rearview mirror, Way far out, beyond any ridulously infinite outer limits, So far out, that Frank Zappa, double checks his amp, So far out, to get there you go through your navel, You are either, smarter than a damned chicken, Or you are the damned chickenshit chicken! Little Goldilocks Murphy Knew Chickens! Serving fruity little fried green tomatoes, Missouri legally recognizing chickens, As still being, walking vegetables. But all road maps are useless! Living in Bum-Fuck Egypt! Still, waiting on Moses! The future is so bright, Nobody bothers watching where the hell they are going! The past so dim they trip over their own two feet! Running in circles they form a single straight line! Standing their ground they can occupy less space! Falling unconscious they make their best decisions! Upon waking relive all their nightmares and fantasies! Money is the root of all evil, and the source of cavities! Hens teeth are never to be confused with dragon's teeth! Indignant walking vegetables remain all bark and no bite! Hoping against all hope to find the land of milk and honey! Going round in circles, all our wheels have but a singular part, Every sphere can have but a singular influence upon the world, For a man is never so truthful as when he declares himself a liar!
The phrase "walking vegetables" was too good to pass up, and is how chickens are legally defined in Missouri. I've struggling to figure out how to combine Goldilocks and Mark Twain in my poetry and this poems illustrates how complicated it has been. Note, the poem conflates the identity of space and time, by conflating the identity of whether anything is literal or metaphorical. Walking the road less traveled, is simultaneously an actual act and a dream, and how much the poem expresses either one depends on the reader. I'm sorry that Stephen Hawking did not live to see the reference to him in the poetry, by all accounts, he had a sense of humor about his condition. Believe it or not, the poem describes physics the foundations of physics, as well as, chickens, and how the conscious and unconscious mind work. Adding Frank Zappa was a bow to him being considered a modern day Mark Twain, and setting the stage for later poems. Note, "where clocks are impossible without shapes" describes topologies such as a torus, as capable of supporting relativistic temporal dynamics. Its a pretty subtle Taoist concept that the masters often contemplate. Complex logic that could take a while for me to work out, perhaps, even a year or longer.
